Doctor Who_ Attack of the Cybermen - Eric Saward [37]
Vigorously she shook her head. ‘No, no, not at all.’
Varne let out a high-pitched squeal: the Cryon’s form of laughing. ‘Someone has told of our nation’s demise,’ she brayed.
Peri’s checks flushed and she looked embarrassed.
‘Ask the Cybermen if all the Cryons have been destroyed!’ She let out another shrill squeak. ‘Then ask them to show you their dead, for that bears witness to the fact we live!’
Other Cryons in the cave began to laugh and let out strange little cheers. Although it was all meant to be in good humour, the slightly fanatical tone in Varne’s voice, and the overreaction from the other Cryons concerned Peri. She knew that she would have to escape as soon as possible.
The refrigeration area was staked with hundreds of sealed boxes. As much for something to do as out of curiosity, the Doctor had tried to force one open, but with little success.
Now his fingers were severely chilled and although he had worked hard to warm them, he feared that they were in the initial stages of frostbite.
Hammering on the door, the Doctor shouted to be let out.
‘They won’t answer,’ said a very tired voice. ‘At least they never have for me.’
The Doctor turned and saw a grotesquely disfigured Cryon slowly making her way between two high pillars of stacked cases. ‘Ah,’ he said nervously, surprised by her sudden arrival. ‘How do you do. I’m the Doctor.’
‘My name is Flast.’ She lifted her hand in a Cryon greeting. ‘Welcome.’ Her voice sounded weak, as though exhausted by the effort of walking. ‘I’m truly sorry that you are a prisoner.’ She let out a terrible gasp and lowered herself onto a nearby box.
‘Are you all right?’
The Cryon sighed. ‘Do not fret for me, Doctor. I know that I am nearly dead.’ Quickly he crossed to where she was seated, but she raised a hand indicating that he should not touch her. ‘Look at me.’ She pointed at her savagely scarred face. ‘Once I was considered beautiful.’ The tip of a finger settled onto a gouge running the length of her face.
‘The Cybermen did this to me. They have tortured me for what seems like forever, but I have not betrayed any secrets.’
The Time Lord placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. ‘Cryons are known throughout the galaxy for their bravery,’ he said kindly.
Flast was surprised. ‘You know that I am a Cryon?’ He nodded. ‘Cybermen propaganda has attempted to convince the Universe of our extinction.’
He smiled and said reassuringly: ‘And failed! No one ever believes the feeble attempts at inculcation practised by Cybermen.’
Flast started to cough, her ruined lungs rasping as they expelled air. ‘It is only a matter of time before their message of hate becomes the truth,’ she wheezed. ‘There are very few of us left... I fear we are a dying breed.’
The Time Lord began to pace up and down. ‘Sorry about having to charge around like this,’ he said, blowing out clouds of steamy breath, ‘but if I don’t keep moving, I’ll freeze to the spot.’
The Cryon understood. ‘I thought you were looking a little blue.’
‘I am: both cold and depressed!’
She gave a small chuckle which deteriorated into another coughing fit. ‘I think I shall enjoy your company,’
she managed to gasp, once the turmoil in her lungs had subsided.
As he crossed to the door, the Doctor wondered who would expire first: himself from hypothermia; or Flast from bronchial collapse.
The Cryon watched as the Time Lord examined a metal plate attached to the wall alongside an upright jamb.
Knowingly, she shook her head. ‘Ah, you now dream of escape,’ she said wistfully. ‘They all do that to begin with...
But then they become depressed... It’s the locked door and armed guard that’s the unsolvable problem.’
The Doctor wasn’t deterred. ‘There must be a way,’ he said firmly, ‘for both of us.’
‘It’s too late for me.’ Her tone was now mournful. ‘I hate the Cybermen more than you could ever know, but my days of fighting them are over.’
‘From the stench of death everywhere, there may not be much more fighting to do.’ Taking out a handkerchief he wiped a thick deposit of frost from the